Silent Night
by bunnytale
Summary: It was Christmas Eve, and they were waiting.


Title: Silent Night

Author: bunnytale

Rating: PG for language

Genre: Friendship/Family

Summary: It was Christmas Eve, and they were waiting.

A/N: One-shot, and first story. Slightly off canon as Chin and Malia aren't (yet) married here. Happy holidays to all, and I hope you enjoy.

Silent Night

"I don't know," Kono said, and looked out the window again. Her face glowed in the moonlight.

Here they were. Honolulu did not see a white Christmas, like in those movies where carollers bundled themselves against the cold and children made snow angels. The city, the valleys and jungles remained lush and green, the air soft and warm, the breezes carrying perfume from a million petals. The surf did not grow choppy and grey and claw at the coastline like so many other winter oceans did. It remained a brilliant blue and beckoned swimmers, surfers, boaters. Under the azure sky, island time slipped and lingered.

But this did not mean that Honolulu floated heedlessly through Christmas. The tourists shopped and lay on the beach; the locals surfed and swam; the birds sang and the flowers bloomed. Yes, life flowed loud and close around them. But as the day neared the nights seemed to grow quieter, pensive. The ocean muted its roar, the palm trees stilling, the very air pausing mid-breath with each dusk that slipped over the city.

And here they were. Chin watched as Danny shifted in his chair, rolled the beer bottle idly between finger and thumb. Everyone's bottle had long since gone warm, and they fell back into stillness. Chin glanced at Kono, then caught Danny's eye and smiled. "We don't know anything yet, Brah," he said. His voice, though quiet, seemed to carry through the darkened headquarters. All the shadows – haunted? – waited, listening.

Danny nodded once, following Kono's absent stare out over the green lawn, the street, the trees. The ocean and the palms and the air had paused, holding themselves close, and all around was darkness. The laughing tourists were far away, but so were the singing birds, the jungles, the wide curving beach of white sand.

The desert of sand – maybe not so white. Under a sky that was maybe not so blue, that heard the songs of other birds, felt the breath of other air. That desert was so far away–

Kono sighed. "We should go over to Uncle's in the afternoon." A pause while she studied Chin. "Are you thinking of bringing Malia?"

Chin dipped his head. "I was thinking about it."

Danny downed another swallow of beer. Dark lines of foamy liquid ran down the inside of the bottle. "Rachel and Stan are back mid-morning, so Grace is coming over about noon."

"We should ... have lunch," Kono said, brightening. "My place?"

"Your place might be even smaller than mine," Danny chuckled. "But it's also nicer, so..."

Chin smiled and nodded. "It sounds good." He leaned forward into the lamplight and placed his beer on the table.

"Yeah," Kono sighed. "We should do that."

Distantly, sirens wailed. They rose and fell like the strains of a carol. Distress somewhere – a heart attack, an overdose, an accident. Twisted metal and the staccato notes of gunfire over the desert– Danny squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed the rest of his beer savagely. The bottle clunked on the table. The air was gone, sucked away, but his words tumbled out, slipping, breathless. "Grace loves him; she loves him; how do I tell her–"

Kono's sudden sob was muted in the quiet space but Chin reached out for Danny, wrapping his fingers around a warm wrist. "We don't know, Danny."

"A convoy of SEALs, Chin!" Danny was out of his chair, running a hand through his hair, pacing to the window, back. Anxiety sharpened his movements. "A whole fucking convoy, wiped _out_, and I _know_ they don't send him on missions like that anymore but he's not back and he was supposed to..." His voice wavered and caught and he sank back into the chair. He opened his mouth, sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he finally managed, and sniffed, swiping his hand across his eyes. The words sounded like gravel scraping up from his throat. Reaching out, he patted Kono's arm. "I'm sorry."

Kono's eyes shimmered. "Yeah, Brah," she smiled. "We all are."

Chin leaned back in his chair and studied them, eyes moving silently between cousin and friend. Brother, really. The office was too dim, too silent and airless to stay. He could feel his own chest constrict at the thought of leaving, of walking under blue-black sky and listening to the ocean. All that life, flowing. "We should go now," he said. "Tomorrow we'll have lunch. Kono's place." His cousin flashed him a shaky grin, but Danny's eyes had moved past him. Danny's face had frozen, his mouth open, his body still.

"Oh," Danny breathed.

Chin followed the detective's gaze, saw Kono turn in her chair and heard her startled cry. In the office doorway, framed in the hallway's brighter light, Steve McGarrett stood. His face was pale but dark bruises mottled his cheek, and bandages were white against his temple, peeking out from the collar of his uniform. He leaned in the doorway, looking bone-weary, and his eyes were dark and he was silent. But he was real and whole and _there_...

And air had come back into the room, bringing with it sound and light and life.

End.


End file.
